


Edges

by chelztoddbrooke



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coping, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, sensory issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelztoddbrooke/pseuds/chelztoddbrooke
Summary: "It put a name to almost every quirk Flynn exhibited. While she wasn’t about to diagnose her partner with some kind of disorder, it certainly made her want to do some more research. Not to label him, but perhaps to understand him a little better. To see into that big brain of his. "Flynn is acting strangely after a tough mission. Eve puts a little armchair psychology to work and discovers something new about her partner.





	Edges

**Author's Note:**

> So I have been doing a total rewatch of everything Librarian and I was watching The Quest for the Spear and it gave me this idea. I'll explain a little more in the notes at the end, don't want to spoil it! Enjoy!

A surprised squawk from bedroom had Eve’s hand reaching for the weapon on her hip. In three quick steps she was at the threshold.

“Flynn?” she called.

“Where is it?” he cried, his voice in that high pitch that usually indicated panic. He tossed back the covers and threw the pillows on to the floor. “It’s gotta be…” he spun wildly, dropping to the floor and looking under the bed.

Eve holstered her gun, realizing he wasn’t being threatened. “What are you looking for? I’ll help look.”

“My...my…” the flush on his cheeks darkened. He almost seemed embarrassed. “The bed sheet that’s usually under my pillow…” he said finally, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Oh. That. I put it in the linen closet, wasn’t sure…” Eve trailed off as he pushed past her into the hallway and darted towards the closet.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, as he pulled the sheet in question off the shelf, almost reverently. He shuffled it around in his hands until he apparently found what he was looking for. He took the edge between his fingers, toying with it for a moment. Almost all of the tension drained from his body. “Sorry, I…” he acknowledged her. “It’s important,” he added vaguely, tucking the sheet under his arm and walking back towards the bedroom. Eve watched as he deposited the sheet on his side of the bed before looking back at her and smiling. “Mind if I shower first?” he asked.

“Uh, sure,” Eve shrugged still not exactly sure what just happened. However, she knew she wasn’t going to touch the sheet again without permission. As he stepped into the bathroom, she returned to the kitchen to sort the mail and set the coffee machine for the morning.

She mulled over the situation. She couldn’t even really remember when the sheet had shown up, she just knew the last time she remade the bed it was tucked under the pillow he’d claimed for his own. He didn’t bring much with him when he officially moved in, so she assumed it was hers and had gotten caught up in something, so she returned it to the closet. Obviously, that was not the case. Whatever it was, it was essential to Flynn. She’d never seen him so panicked outside of work.

When she finally climbed into bed, he had his nose buried in a book and the sheet sat in his lap, his fingers tangled in the fabric. When she noticed the way he rhythmically ran his thumb over the edge she realized what he was doing.

* * *

Flashback

_She’d just returned from a complicated mission with the three newbie librarians. Flynn was off on his own, but said he would be coming home for the night. Too cued up to go to bed, she decided to wait up for him, passing the time flipping through the channels. She stopped on a late night news show. Some story about a new sensory gym opening in town. Something about it intrigued her. With fidget spinners on the rise, she knew there was a need for sensory coping mechanisms, but she was not really sure what constituted a sensory issue. The longer she listened, the more familiar it sounded._

**_Sensory Processing Disorder._ **

_It made so much sense._

_It put a name to almost every quirk Flynn exhibited. While she wasn’t about to diagnose her partner with some kind of disorder, it certainly made her want to do some more research. Not to label him, but perhaps to understand him a little better. To see into that big brain of his._

_She found a couple books at the Library. She read up on the different types and how they manifested. She learned that you could be hypersensitive, hyposensitive, or both. She studied each as well as the different coping mechanisms. Based on her limited research she realized Flynn straddled the field._

**_Over-sensitivity. Under-sensitive. Sensory craving._ **

_It wasn’t blaringly obvious. He hid it well and had they not been out on adventures spending every second together, waking and otherwise, she might not have ever noticed anything other than an eccentric human being._

_It was the way he lost his train of thought when everything was coming at them at once. The couple times she’d found him tucked into a corner with his hands over his ears after a particularly long day. The way he sometimes shied away from her touch in those strange moments where he would go unusually quiet, lost in his head. His request to keep the lights low after a day out in the field._

_Conversely, it was also the times he couldn’t sit still. The need to run and jump and toss himself into a mission without a plan. It was his urge to touch everything, to smell it, taste it. It was the way he would curl against her, begging for affection. It was those days the music was blaring from his office as he bopped around from book to book, intent on his research._

_It made her curious to know how he handled it, what he used to cope. Because with everything they faced on a daily basis, she couldn’t imagine he wasn’t constantly triggered in one way or another. The fact that he never ended up completely shutting down was nothing short of remarkable._

End Flashback

* * *

 

“That’s how you cope, isn’t it?” she asked, gesturing towards the sheet. Flynn looked up from his book, blinking owlishly behind his glasses.

“Cope?” he parroted.

“Sensory perception disorder, I saw something on the news…” Eve trialed off realizing she’d put him in a vulnerable position.

“Issues,” Flynn said, color coming to his cheeks. “My symptoms are not strong enough to considered a disorder,” he corrected gently, dropping his eyes from hers. His thumb continued moving along the edge of the sheet.

“So you’ve been diagnosed?” Eve wondered. He shook his head, but still wouldn’t look at her.

“Not by a licensed professional. But I’ve read up on it,” he shrugged. “I think I’m too old anyway. We didn’t have names for all these things when we were kids. So even if I showed severe signs, it would have been diagnosed as something else, probably far scarier.”

“Do you consider yourself over or under?” she asked gently, trying to show him she was genuinely curious and not just profiling him.

“At first, over. I always thought it was just some side effect to the amount of information I took in on a daily basis, even as a little guy, I was constantly reading and learning. Sometimes I would get so overwhelmed by the world around me. I didn’t want anything to touch me, whether that be light or sound or actual physical touch. But then as I got older I realized I was so used to doing a million things at once that when things slowed down I would fidget and become overly curious. That was when I usually got into trouble…it still is because I’m…”

“Sensory craving,” Eve finished for him. He finally looked at her again, a smile breaking through his solemn expression.

“Yes, exactly,” he chuckled. “How long have you known?”

“I wouldn’t say _known_ exactly.  It isn’t my place to give you a label. But after I saw the news story a couple months ago, I did a little reading on the subject. The pieces seemed to fit,” she admitted sheepishly. “I’d forgotten about it actually, until the whole sheet incident when we got home.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It has a selvedge, they’re hard to find these days. So, I am a little over protective. And after today’s mission, I just needed it,” Flynn sighed.

“It helps, for both over and under?” Now that she figured out it was his coping mechanism, she wanted to know how it worked.

“I like the feel of the edge between my fingers, I’ve done it since I was a baby. When I’m over sensitive, it grounds me and when I’m under, it’s stimulating. It distracts part of my brain so I don’t go running into danger,” he explained, offering a piece to her so she could feel for herself. Eve nodded as she ran her fingers over the textured edge in the way he had. She could see how it could be soothing to him. “I have a few other coping skills, but this is the best. Sometimes I crave it while I’m on a mission, but it’s hard to pack light while toting around a whole bed sheet. And they wear out after a while, so I try to hold off.” He finished with a light laugh.

“Flynn, you could have told me about this,” she said finally, meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, a man in his forties with a blankie is sooo attractive,” Flynn scoffed.

“It’s more than that. It sounds like it’s the thing that keeps you sane and safe and to me that’s very important,” Eve countered, scooting closer to him and dropping her head on his shoulder.

“Eve, you keep me sane and safe. The sheet is just how I learned to do it without you all those years,” he remarked, removing both of their hands from the sheet in question and intertwined their fingers. Eve lifted her head to press a kiss to his cheek. While his sentiment was sweet, she knew her presence couldn’t simply erase his sensory issue. He would still need his coping mechanism, but she took the compliment regardless.

* * *

A couple weeks later, Eve sent Flynn off on a solo mission to the other side of the world. As he hugged her goodbye at the back door of the annex, she dropped something into the pocket of his blazer. She sent him a text as soon as he cleared the connection.

**If things get tough, check your pocket. xo**

Flynn furrowed his brow as he read the text. Unable to resist his curiosity, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a piece flower patterned fabric about the size of a handkerchief with one selvedge. He quickly texted her back.

**You’re incredible, you know that?**

Eve knew he wouldn’t be able to wait. After their conversation she scoured a couple Goodwill shops collecting all the selvedge sheets she could find. He mentioned his wearing out, so she wanted to have some on hand for the future. Then she cut a couple of them in to manageable pieces and hemmed the edges so he could have a pocket size for missions. She needed him to be at his best. She typed a quick reply.

**Just want you to be safe and sane. Come back alive, Librarian. Xo**

Flynn sent one last text and shoved his phone into his pocket with his little piece of edge.

**Love you. xoxo**

**Author's Note:**

> So this story is very near and dear to me, as I have sensory issues myself. I, like Flynn, do not exhibit true symptoms of a disorder. They have always just been a part of my life that I didn't even know there was a name for it until a couple years ago when my friend was studying to be a SLP and she gave me a good once over. I am also over, under, and sensory craving. The bed sheet is my coping mechanism. Last year I was going through a particularly tough time at work and I would find my fingers twitching, anxious to get back to my sheet. They do wear out and they are hard to find (they don't make bed sheets with a selvedge much anymore). 
> 
> So as I was watching The Quest for the Spear the other day, I noticed the few of Flynn's behaviors that mirrored sensory issues, so I decided to write this little fic, using my journey as an outline. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
